Zero Hour
by StormyNight55
Summary: How badly do you want to survive? Do you want to live even if you are covered in blood like birthmarks, even if you are king of a hill of bodies that you know by name? Tear apart who you were before with your bare hands. Understand what you are capable of, and know that you will do much worse than that. Hell is not a place below ground.
1. Prologue: 157 Days

As much as I'd like to try out AO3's formatting system with this, I figured there are so many people subscribed to updates here from Footsoldiers that I should not deprive you all the chance to check out my newest huge project!

Have any of you seen Lost? The TV series? If so, the timeline hops might make you feel a bit nostalgic about it...the story will be framed a bit like that. I think the shifts should be fairly easy for you guys to follow, but by all means, leave critique if you disagree! In addition, please note that the chapter titles will always follow the timeline and dates of CURRENT events, not flashbacks (which will be italicized)...I want everyone to be able to understand what's happening (well, sometimes. Unless I'm leaving you all in the dark on purpose...)

I hope you all enjoy this baby as much as I'm enjoying working on it...without further ado, the prologue to my pokemon zombie AU.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.**

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><p><span><em>Prologue: 157 Days<em>

_March 2nd; 02:13._

Outside, the night was still. The air was crisp and chilly, as March in Kanto tended to be. There was no snow left on the ground, something that Ash Ketchum had never been more thankful for. Bonnie's boots had been falling apart for weeks.

Plants were creeping up the walls of the house, a structure of modest size. It was nothing flashy, nothing to blink an eye at, though perhaps its battered appearance was worth a second look. The windows were boarded with planks of wood, and there were unidentifiable gouges in the paneling.

It was unremarkable. Beyond that, it was running out of supplies.

"What are you looking at?"

Ash Ketchum stood at the foot of the staircase in the dark. There was no light peeking in from outside, not at this time of night, and electricity had gone out everywhere that Ash knew of weeks ago. The wallpaper throughout the house, a tacky floral print reminiscent of a cheap hotel, was flaking off in places, peeling at the edges and corners. There was not much dust on the floor, not anymore, not since they had found the place and done their best to upkeep it. It was their defense against the snow, the cold.

It was their defense against other things, as well, albeit not their only one.

The young man at the windowsill looked over his shoulder, eyes leaving the hole carved through one of the window's wooden planks. His eyes were dulled, though not lacking in faint flecks of life and certainly not lacking in the brightness of intelligence. But there was some youthful, human quality that was either missing or depleting, and it was at a rate that Ash Ketchum could do nothing to stop. They all carried it with them now, the beginnings of human triviality chipping away, peeling them apart until they would be only the root of what they once were – breathing beings and survival instinct.

Ash could see that. They could all see it, but there was nothing to be done about it short of resisting for as long as they could, and so long as there were stomachs to be filled and threats just outside of their door, maintaining their humanity was not their most pressing concern.

Still, there was a time not too long ago that Ash had gathered comfort from looking into Gary Oak's eyes, even exchanging the quickest of glances, and he had never bothered to place why. That, at least, was something that had not yet changed.

No matter how little his childhood, his home, his past life mattered now, he still felt something like comfort when Gary looked over his shoulder at him.

"Just keeping watch," Gary shrugged faintly, shifting the gun across his back. It was an odd thing to think, that Gary looked good with a gun slung over his shoulder, especially given their circumstances. But he did. It didn't look practical, but good, like a model posing with a fake weapon that would never see use. Ash couldn't bring himself to laugh at the thought. The gun had seen use. "Umbreon's scouting around outside. Everything looks alright."

Ash nodded. Upstairs, their group was strewn out in beds, makeshift or otherwise, that they had been able to salvage within the small house.

"How long do you think we should wait?" Ash asked, keeping his voice quiet. Tiny footfalls sounded on the stairs behind him, and he felt the familiar pull of small claws hooking into his clothes before he could look. Pikachu settled into the hood of his sweatshirt quietly, the only sound that of grinding rodent teeth. "Before we head towards Celadon."

Celadon City was a long shot, and they both knew that. Every one of them knew it. But the steady lessening of rations was taking a toll on them, and if there was a chance that maybe some place in the city hadn't been raided or destroyed already, then it was worth a shot. They needed more consistence sources of food, they needed supplies. They needed ammo more than anything.

Gary glanced out of the window again, and then back to Ash. "There's no snow left on the ground. Not here, anyway."

There was a moment of silence, broken by whiskers poking through the hole near to Gary's face. His fingers reached through and touched the muzzle of the pokemon outside before he reached over to the door, undoing the cord around the knob and opened it just slight enough for Umbreon to slide inside.

"What do you think?" Gary asked, leaning his back against the door once he had bound it shut once again, one foot propped up against the wood in a casual fashion that didn't reach his expression. Umbreon wound around his calf and arched her back in a cat-like manner, purring.

"I think we should go as soon as we can," Ash answered. "We can pack up food and water tomorrow. If we wait any longer, we're going to run out of supplies on the way there."

Gary nodded curtly, and then sighed in a way that was much less definite. "We might still run out."

They had not been to Celadon City since they had originally fled, when the outbreak had reached a boiling point. Not since panic had erupted, a public anxiety that had bubbled over into insanity. Not since people had started fighting each other, hoarding supplies, not since the word crime had ceased to have any real meaning. Not since the burnings that had reduced entire cities to rubble. The police had tried their best, but soon enough they had become as afraid as anyone else. Ash could only assume that the government had tried, at least in the beginning, before things had spiraled out of control.

None of that mattered now. Whatever occupation, whatever titles, whatever roles a person had played before, they all had ceased to matter in the aftermath of the outbreak.

Aside from trainers.

Trainers had the skills needed to survive on their own for long stretches, had the experience of getting along with strangers well enough to live in small, functional groups. Trainers had pokemon, even if only a few, which were vital to survival in this new, hostile world. It was ironic, in some sick way, that trainers had been unknowingly prepped to inherit the region, a profession which before had carried with it the promise of either absolute fame or public disdain.

Gary began to speak again.

"If everything still looks fine in the morning, we'll eat, pack up, and go," he said with finality. Ash nodded, and with the decision made, Gary's eyes softened sympathetically. "You should get some sleep, Ash. I'll only be up for another hour at the most. Misty has the next shift."

Ash glanced over towards the living room, where a young woman was curled on the couch. There was a gun identical to Gary's against her back as well, even in sleep.

"Yeah," he agreed, and was about to retreat to the living room to occupy the other couch until he heard the faintest footsteps upstairs. He and Gary glanced upward at the ceiling, then back to each other. Without words, the brunette returned to his post, peering out of the hole in the window, leaving Ash to head back up the staircase. Upstairs, he found who he had expected to.

"Can't sleep?"

The young girl jumped and spun around at the end of the hall. Her wide eyes lost their surprised quality when she spotted him, and her lips turned up in a smile that Ash returned.

"Sorry," he said, forgetting for a moment his quiet tone. Bonnie held a finger up to her lips and scampered closer, her bare feet hardly making a sound against the floor. "Did I scare you?"

"No," the blonde grinned. Twin braids around her shoulders were coming undone, the rest of her hair askew as well, like she had just risen from sleep. "I can't sleep. I was going to see if..."

She trailed off and Ash smiled.

"If Gary would let you stand watch with him?" He offered. Bonnie rubbed one foot into the wood paneling below them.

"I didn't know it was Gary's turn."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "But hey, in a little while, it'll be mine. Early in the morning. So try and get some more sleep, and when it's my turn you can come hang out with me, okay?"

She beamed and nodded enthusiastically, turning to hurry back to one of the few rooms.

"Hey," he stopped her briefly, whispering. "Don't tell your brother, okay? If he asks, you got up early to help Brock cook."

She nodded again, giggling under her breath. "I won't get you in trouble."

She hurried back to her bed, out of sight, and dread settled in around the edges of his mind again.

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><p><span><em>January 2nd; 14:13<em>

_"Just _show _me, Gary. I've been ready for like five minutes."_

_They were deep in the University of Celadon's Laboratory of Virology, admittedly not a place that Ash Ketchum had any right to be. He was, however, having a hard time with rules that did not permit him to follow Gary Oak wherever he went, and as head of the laboratory, it could be said that Gary was struggling a bit with enforcing them. It was too tempting for the young men to revert back to preteen habits, and the full set of keys that Gary had been gifted as head of lab craved misuse._

_'**RESTRICTED ****ACCESS, ACTIVE VIRAL AGENTS QUARANTINED INSIDE."**_

_The door read in plain, block letters. Gary shut it tightly behind them. _

_For being such a 'restricted' area, Ash didn't think that it looked like anything too special. Granted, the finer qualities of the lab were entirely lost on him, but it seemed to have nothing but the same things he had seen throughout already - test tubes, desks packed with files and folders, liquids bottled in variously shaped containers, words that looked like gibberish labeling every little thing. What he was supposed to be reveling in, Ash wasn't sure. Gary stepped forward until he was in front of something large and square hidden under a tarp, grabbing the top with one of his gloved hands and turning around to face Ash with eyes bright with anticipation._

_"What's under that?" Ash asked. "A cage?"_

_"Yeah, but what matters is what's _in _the cage," he wasn't quite smiling, but there was an air of excitement exuding from him that was rubbing off onto Ash. Pikachu shuffled on his shoulder, hopping to the other, sensing the building energy. _

_Gary ripped the tarp aside, and whatever was inside - for a moment, it wasn't clear - began to scatter around frantically. It bashed against the glass, scrabbled its claws up the sides, frothed at the mouth. For a moment, it was all Ash could do to stand and stare in gaping shock. _

_"Is that a...?"_

_"Rattata," Gary finished, when it became apparent that Ash was preoccupied with staring. "Yeah, it is."_

_Pikachu's ears flattened against his head and he dove into the hood of Ash's sweatshirt. Gary watched Ash while Ash watched the creature inside the glass tank as it settled down again, gnawing with worn down incisors against the thick glass. It was beyond skinny, every rib protruding. Its eyes bulged in an unsettling way, and a mixture of blood and drool seeped from its mouth. Fur was missing in large patches and scattered about the tank. It panted madly, like every breath was a struggle._

_"Is this the thing everyone's been talking about?" Ash blinked, regaining his voice. "The disease?"_

_"Yeah," Gary affirmed. He must have decided that Ash had seen enough, as he cast the tarp back over the tank and the rattata disappeared from view. _

_"Holy shit."_

_"I know, right?" Gary gave a quiet chuckle, but it masked something else, something like genuine pity for the caged thing. "This isn't the only case I've seen, but it's the only one we have in the lab, for now."_

_"This is what you're trying to cure?"_

_"Yep," Gary stared back at the tank, like there was anything to see. "Not all of that is the virus, though. The sores and the hair loss are self-inflicted - stereotypic behaviors. The weight loss is because the body rejects anything that isn't meat, now that the infection has gotten bad. Rattata can't live on a diet of meat alone, so..."_

_"It's starving to death?"_

_"Yeah. The virus is going to kill it first, though. He's already had one bout of seizures." _

_"And you think there's going to be more?" Ash prompted. "Seizures."_

_"I know there will be. He's already - _it's _already run two insanely high fevers since we managed to catch it, and nothing's proved effective treatment-wise."_

_"So there's nothing you can do?"_

_"Right now, no," he finally looked away from the tank and back up towards Ash, putting his hands away into the pockets of his lab coat. "That's where I come in. But to be honest with you, it's a lot. I don't even know where to start."_

_It was an odd admission to hear, coming from Gary Oak, but he didn't sound defeated or overwhelmed. If anything, Ash recognized the edge of excitement in his voice, the expectation and hesitant readiness for a challenge. He had heard that tone before, self-assurance bordering on overconfidence. _

_"Should I be worried or something?" Ash smiled and laughed lightly, though there was genuine concern hidden under his lightheartedness. "You know, about Pikachu, and the other pokemon. You said that the virus is only in Kanto, right?"_

_"Only in isolated populations," Gary added. "From what we know, anyway. We've got a big map in the main part of the lab - I'll show you on our way out. Just don't let your pokemon run around alone in the woods and you'll be fine. And - we're not supposed to tell this part to the public, so keep your mouth shut, okay?"_

_Ash nodded curiously, anticipation sparked again._

_"There's no point in keeping it from you anyway, since your boyfriend will probably tell you," Gary decided, seeming to search for an excuse that would absolve him of responsibility. "But the virus is spreading pretty quickly. The infected tend to get aggressive, and they'll bite a lot easier. That's a pretty logical way to assume the virus is traveling. So, using your head while you're out in the woods couldn't hurt. I know that's not your strong suit."_

_Ash didn't even defend himself against the small jab. There was still a buzzing energy in the air, bouncing between the two of them, born of seeing each other again when they had not expected to._

_"So you're working with populations of zombie-pokemon?"_

_Gary fixed him with a look as if he were predictably dumb and did not so much as chuckle._

_"They're still alive, so no. Not zombies."_

_"That rattata looks pretty close," Ash teased again, despite the pang of sympathy he felt for the creature that was strong and true. He took no pleasure in seeing it suffer, but this was Gary, and he had playful jibes to throw._

_Gary didn't bite the bait and headed back towards the door. Ash followed him out, and the brunette locked in behind them silently, leading the way out of the lab. The silence continued and Ash swallowed, the atmosphere becoming more serious._

_"You're really worried about this?" He decided to voice his concern. Gary stopped in his tracks, and took a quick moment before turning over his shoulder with wry half-smile that almost looked like something he might have worn years ago as a cocky teenager. _

_"Please," he snorted. "I can handle it."_

_He kept walking, and Ash came up to his side and kept in stride._

_"What if it did spread?" He kept a joking tone to his voice, kept a somewhat taunting smile on his face, goading Gary into hitting the ball back into his court. There was genuine curiosity behind his question, but he didn't want to bog down their meeting by sounding too serious. "Are you saying you're the only thing standing between us and a, like...zombie apocalypse in Kanto?"_

_Gary did laugh this time. Just once, a loud bark that fully conveyed how ridiculous Ash had managed to sound. He ran a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes until they settled back on his company._

_"God, Ash," he chuckled tauntingly, without any real malice. "You have no idea how stupid you just sounded."_


	2. Chapter One: 156 Days

You guys have no idea how motivating your support is! I'd love to sit here and try my best to thank you but I think the best thanks I can give is to buckle down and hash out more Zero Hour, yes?

This chapter gave me a hell of a hard time but we're headed in the right direction.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.**

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><p><em><span>Chapter One: 156 Days.<span>_

_March 3rd; 11:34._

Perhaps there was some safety in the cover of night, but Ash preferred the opportunity to see danger coming.

They were not far off from Celadon City. It was hard to be certain exactly where they were at times, what with the tattered condition of their only map. Occasionally, when rips or tears in the paper obstructed their path, there would be some old marking scrawled on the paper that Gary could remember a colleague or himself making, and that would be clue enough to determine roughly where they were.

And anyway, Brock was good at navigating on hunches alone.

They made it to the outskirts of Celadon City just past noon. The seven of them passed by a signpost that alerted them to their coming arrival, and they did their best to ignore the messages carved into the wood. It was not unusual to see things scrawled into posts, written in the dirt, painted onto buildings with whatever available medium. Most were hopeless and morbid, not worth the glance. Ash had almost forgotten to expect it. They had spent so much time in the woods.

Ash paused as he noticed Gary mouthing something to himself, stopped beside the sign. Everyone waited a moment before Gary waved them on, and with some hesitance they went, except for Ash. He hung back, brows lowered in question.

"What are you looking at?"

Gary pointed toward something on the sign again and Ash moved in for a closer look.

"Check that out."

Scribbled into the wood in barely legible pen were about a dozen tally marks. Below them read something else.

"'_Johto relief'_," Gary went on. "_'Every week, noon'_."

"You think that's how many times they've come?" Ash proposed, shooting him a sidelong glance. "That's a lot of tallies."

Gary shrugged, shifting the gun across his back. Umbreon was stalled beside him dutifully, waiting for some cue that they could continue moving. "No clue."

They trained their eyes forward to find the rest of their group stalled in the road ahead. A redheaded woman turned to face them fully when she noticed that they were looking, hands settling on her hips.

"Are you two planning on keeping up?" She called back to them. A small, bird-like thing perched at her right shoulder - her togetic, about knee-height and with a short, sturdy beak plucking through pale feathers as her trainer took pause. Misty Waterflower, like many trainers in the new Kanto, had but one pokemon left to her name.

It was ironic, in a deeply sad way, that Cerulean City Gym's last leader had not a single one of the water-types she had been known for left. Trainers of all kinds, novice to great, had been reduced to a precious few partners.

Ash tried not to dwell on his pokemon for long. It never failed to upset him, and as Gary said, it did no good to think about it. It did no good to think about Pokemon Centers unused, dark, abandoned, and the rows upon rows of boxes inside meant to store valued pokemon, now holding them hostage eternally. It did no good to think of boxes sealed shut without electricity to activate their systems, without employees to activate them with pass codes. Trainers who meant to claim their pokemon could not, or were so far from where they had been stored that they could scarcely dream of returning there to try and claim them.

"Yeah, yeah," Gary's voice carried up ahead. "We're coming."

Ash pushed the train of thought aside as they caught up. There was no obvious leader or system of rank in their group, and yet they were not disorganized. Their group had history, and old habits had picked up again fast. Brock Harrison walked in step with Misty up ahead, pointing out something on the map stretched out in his hands. Gary had come up to Tracey Sketchit's side silently, and the taller man was watching him out of the corner of his eye like something was on the tip of his tongue. Bonnie was keeping a few steps ahead of the final member of their group, her brother Clemont. Their relation was obvious, told in their blond hair and matching features.

They were unlucky, the seven of them. There was no hiding from it. They could have been anywhere else when Kanto had begun to fall. The world was a wide and vast place. But they had not been anywhere else, and now they were trudging down the road to Celadon, a mere shell of the famous city it had once been, hoping to find anything they could eat or defend themselves with.

Yet Ash felt lucky with the six of them surrounding him. He could have ended up with others. He could have ended up alone.

He liked to believe that they were luckier than they knew.

"Hey," Ash flashed the young man beside him a reassuring smile, and Clemont returned his own. It was softer and hesitant. He had his concerns about the city - they all did. But Clemont worried worse than the rest of them. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly, and Ash believed him. He was still learning to swallow the uneasy guilt that churned in his gut whenever his mind lingered on Clemont for long. He forced himself to shake it off each time, before it could fester in his head until it made his stomach sick. Even with smudged glasses and a pack stuffed full strapped to his back, Clemont hardly looked the part of traveler - a lighthearted word for the situation they were in_. _He looked cautious and small and very far from home.

Even though Ash was supposed to be putting their past aside, the urge to reach through the inches between them and take his hand was there.

"Ash?" Clemont said, watching him curiously with the faintest of amusement. His voice was quiet like he was intentionally trying to keep from drawing anyone's attention. "You're staring..."

"What?" He blinked rapidly, like he had been woken from a trance. Clemont looked sort of sorry for him, but in a gentle way that was so far from offensive it was almost endearing. Ash didn't really have an answer, so he offered a fumbling apology under his breath and gave a short laugh at his own foolishness, looking back towards the road ahead of him just in time to trip over a rock.

Clemont made a muted sound like a purposefully hidden laugh and Bonnie groaned aloud from beside him.

"You're so embarrassing, Ash," the girl said, covering her face with a hand.

"Did you two see something back there?" Tracey interrupted. Ash was sincerely glad when the attention was drawn away from him and towards the more pressing matters at hand.

"Apparently Johto drops relief in the city," Gary confessed, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. He sounded underwhelmed and distracted. Ash could feel the embarrassed heat leaving his face at the other man's tone.

"That's good," Tracey replied with a bit of hopeful emphasis.

"If that's true," Brock added seriously, "I'm sure we're not the only ones hoping we find something there. The city isn't a place that we should stay long, if we can help it. It's in ruin, and for all we know it could still be abandoned."

"Does that mean they're sending people to pick us up?"

Everyone paused, a surprised stillness falling over them. Bonnie's eyes flitted downward in an uncharacteristic display of shyness.

"If Johto is leaving supplies for us?" She added, voice hopeful. "Does that mean they're sending people to come and get us and take us to Johto?"

"Bonnie -" Clemont began.

"Maybe," Misty interrupted, her voice softer and sweeter than usual. Ash just barely detected the undertone of doubt hidden there. "Maybe they are."

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><p>They rifled through abandoned homes on their way into the depths of the city, before Celadon's streets became a throng of wrecked skyscrapers and abandoned taxis. They found the odd canned good or two, found Bonnie a new pair of shoes, found a new pot that they could use to boil water. They turned over furniture that wasn't already, stuck their hands everywhere they could fit them, rustled through everything. As expected, most places had been cleaned out.<p>

They heard and saw nothing of interest until they reached the inner city. It was there in the city's once-proud center that they came across a slew of overturned boxes and crates, empty bags blowing in the light breeze. There was nothing but a few cans left behind to take, but the remnants told a story.

"Johto," Tracey muttered, bending over to pick up one of the dented cardboard boxes and pointing its side for them all to see. There was a logo stamped to the side of it in blue ink, smudged like it had been applied in a hurry. If Ash had not already known the symbol, he might not have been able to make out the three beasts forming a circle, each one's fore-paws stretched out to reach the next's tail.

_Johto's legendary dogs._

"There must be people who live here," Misty looked around, but the city had never seemed emptier. "Who else would have gotten to all of these supplies?"

"Wild pokemon, moving into the city?" Ash offered, but Gary shook his head.

"Look at the boxes. They're not torn up - just emptied," he sighed. "We should watch out for those too, though - and strays."

"Maybe a group of people just happened through at the right time," Tracey suggested. Ash touched one hand to the empty gun in his back pocket, the breeze stirring up the debris around them. Looking around, the city seemed impossibly vast, as if only the seven of them were there.

Ash swallowed. The symbol stamped onto the side of the box stared back as if to taunt them.

"We should go back," Clemont said quietly. "We should go back to the house, before it's too late to make it before dark."

"We can't," Gary answered simply.

"We should," Clemont persisted. "What if we don't find anything out here?"

"There's nothing left for us in that house," Ash agreed. They had lived there as long as they could wring resources from within its shelter, and it had been sucked dry.

"We could probably make it to the bay in the a few days," Misty suggested. "The one between Route Seventeen and Vermilion City? We could fish."

"We don't have supplies to fish," Brock pointed out. "Our pokemon aren't much help."

"Togetic might be able to catch something," she replied, and the pokemon at her shoulder perked up at the mention of her name. "I could teach her."

"We don't have time," Gary spoke up again. Misty's brows lowered.

"Worrying about where we're going to go doesn't help us sleep tonight," Brock interceded. "We need to secure somewhere that we can stay the night - here, in the city."

"We should go back," Clemont said again, and then Umbreon's ears stood straight up from her place beside Gary just as Ash felt Pikachu pop up in his hood. A pulse of light coursed through the rings in her fur, and Ash felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up both from uneasiness and the static charge building in Pikachu's fur. Ash heard something rustling behind them just as he turned to look.

A chill settled in the air.

Padding out from the throng of buildings behind them came a canine, and then another, and finally a third. Their fur was short and patchy, thinner on the belly and forelimbs as if they had gnawed and scratched at themselves. Two horns protruded from their foreheads that curled backward, the most formidable-looking things about the beasts until one opened its maw and exposed its teeth, tongue lolling and saliva dripping from its jowls. They pushed about the boxes and crates with their muzzles, sniffing curiously. They opened and closed their mouths as if to swallow, but continued to drool, more froth falling to the ground with every movement.

Ash heard the sound of a pokeball activating behind him, and when he dared to glance back Umbreon was gone. When he looked back, the houndoom were raising their heads one by one, eyes trained on the humans they were now taking notice of.

"They're infected," Gary whispered. "Don't run."

"They'll come for us anyway," Misty breathed back, their voices hardly a whisper. One of the pokemon let out a bark and took a few unsteady steps forward, snapping blindly at its pack-mate until they were lunging back and forth. The heightened excitement seemed to spread until they were yelping and jumping about without clear direction.

It had taken no instruction for them all to begin backing up as slowly and quietly as they could. The pack seemed to realize that the gap between their groups was widening steadily and trained their glossy eyes on the humans in front of them.

"Don't shoot unless they get close," Gary instructed, taking the gun from his back. There were nerves hidden in his voice.

"They're coming," Clemont breathed behind him, voice trembling.

"Take your backpack off," Ash told him, and he could hear it sliding from the blond's shoulders.

"We run to the building behind us, the closest one," Brock's voice was tensely calm.

_Brock can make it, _Ash's mind raced. _Tracey isn't fast but he's far enough behind us to make it. Gary and Misty have guns. They'll make it. _

Pikachu let out a low, agitated sound and the houndoom began to advance. Behind him, the color had drained from Clemont's face and he had a vice grip on his sister's wrist.

_Clemont can't outrun them, _the thought ran through his mind with urgent clarity, _Clemont and Bonnie can't outrun them._

"Don't shoot," Ash held out one palm behind him, "just run on three."

"What do you mean, _'don't shoot'_?" Misty's voice rose with fear and then the houndoom broke into runs, barreling towards them at full speed.

"Shit,_ three!_" Gary shouted, drowning out Ash's command, and Pikachu's fur crackled loudly from his hood. Ash screwed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth and _heard_ more than he felt the ensuing thunder shock, the yelping and whimpering of the houndoom in front of him barely audible over the ringing in his own ears and the jolt than ran through his spine. When he opened his eyes but a moment later, he was flat on his back, the dogs similarly splayed out only a short distance before him. He sucked in a breath and hands seized him by the shoulders, yanking him to his feet, and he turned on his heels to race after Gary towards the open door of the building behind him.

The door slammed behind him with a force that seemed to shake the building. Ash nearly fell to the floor, chest heaving and gasping breath. Tracey and Brock had their backs against the door just as a weight slammed into it, and then another, and outside they could hear the frenzied barking of the houndoom as they threw themselves at the door.

"You _have _to stop doing that," Misty was the first to reach him, grabbing him by the front of his sweatshirt and tugging until he sat up. "Do you hear me, Ash?"

He nodded repeatedly, still sucking in breaths, heart still in his throat. His ears still buzzed from the electric shock and it was not easy to make out exactly who was saying what, especially once the others began speaking, their voices melding in the air.

"Ash," Clemont was kneeling in front of him, blue eyes wide and face pale, waving a hand near his face to try and draw his attention. "Ash."

"Yeah," he panted, the world coming into full focus again. "I'm okay."

Pikachu crawled out from his hood and pressed his forehead into Ash's cheek. Clemont swallowed hard enough to see it in his throat and wrapped his arms around Ash's shoulders.

"I'm fine," Ash said, breathy, relieved laughs bubbling up from his throat. "We're all okay."

* * *

><p>The Game Corner had fared well enough. Most of the machines were rooted firmly to the floor, and so there was not much to have been trashed and looted. The casino was hardly lit, with the blinking bulbs and bright, neon lights a thing of the past and the windows already boarded shut. There were still chips and coins scattered across the carpet, and the register behind one of the counters had been pried open and emptied.<p>

The barking had died down entirely, but no one had ventured outside to retrieve the pack that Clemont had dropped. Ash had peered out of a hole in a boarded up window when no one was looking and had found it ripped apart, contents strewn across the concrete.

"There's poop everywhere," Bonnie stuck out her tongue. Rattata dung littered the carpet.

"This is only for one night," Clemont reassured her, and Ash didn't think he looked at all convincing.

They rearranged the few couches present so that it would be possible to sleep in a circle, and threw a few cushions to the floor as poor excuses for beds. There were upstairs rooms and a stairway in the back that led to a basement yet to be explored, but the tiny scratching Ash could hear up and down the stairs and behind the doors had kept him from satisfying his curiosity.

By nightfall the relief of their temporary safety had dissipated, and tension had risen. Bonnie had curled her knees up to her chest on one of the couches and huddled with Pikachu. Clemont was attempting to sleep on the floor with his luxray pressed against him, and every so often the feline would prod his nose into his trainer's chin or some other gentle gesture to distract his attention. Misty rolled Togetic's ball in her hand and stared through it, gun propped against the back of the couch while she sat. Tracey and Brock were organizing supplies, every little thing they had between the seven of them splayed out across the carpet, trying to stay busy in any way that they could.

"You know we're staying in a rattata hotel, right?" Gary whispered, and Ash straightened up from where he had been trying to peer through the window of the casino door. Ash was just able to make out his face, the only light that of the moon shining through cracks in the boards over the windows and from the door before them. "They're great disease vectors. Hear them in the walls?"

"Yeah," Ash answered just as quietly. It was hard not to, and it was taking conscious effort to ignore the sound of tiny claws scrabbling just out of sight. Gary looked wearier than he had seen him in a long while. "You don't have to stay up with me."

"No one's asleep," he answered knowingly, "and nobody's going to sleep."

"You should try," Ash answered, allowing a smile to play at his lips. "You look bad, for once."

Gary took a moment to react, staring like he was caught off guard, and then he closed his eyes and grinned just barely.

"Thanks," he droned, exhaling through his nose and sounding more lighthearted. "You know you probably lose a couple dozen brain cells every time you let Pikachu fry you like that?"

"Yeah," Ash admitted, and they laughed softly under their breaths.

"Seriously," Gary began again, a little sterner. "Don't risk it. There's no hospital we can take you to if you cook your brain."

"I didn't have a choice," Ash explained, voice hushed so that the others wouldn't hear them. "You know I had to."

Gary glanced pointedly at where Clemont was lying before he looked back to Ash and sighed.

"I'm not saying you did the wrong thing," he replied. "You didn't. I'm just saying be careful."

Gary looked away, eyes cast upward toward the window as if he could see out of it. His expression fell piece by piece, like something was steadily draining the life out of him.

"Don't look like that," he insisted.

"Like what?" Gary glanced back.

"I don't know. Like you're - giving up, or something."

Gary sighed heavily and took a moment to answer.

"I'm not. I'm not exactly bursting with hope, but I'm not giving up," he said. "I just don't like what it's coming down to."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't make me say it," he said wearily, eyes vaguely pained. Ash hated this, when Gary looked tired and beaten - it looked so _wrong _on him, and Ash almost wanted to blame him for it, to demand that he fight harder.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Gary," he replied seriously. "What do you mean?"

"We're running out of bullets," he began gravely, leaning in. "We're running out of food. Now that we're in the city, once we run out of water, I don't know where we're going to fill up again. Most of the pokemon we have can carry the virus. And today you had to split a thunder shock between you and three infected houndoom because some of us are slower than others."

"That's not their fault," he interjected sternly, brow lowered, and Gary shook his head once.

"That's not what I mean, Ash," he corrected. "I'm not blaming anyone for anything. But it's a matter of time before -"

He cut himself off, exhaling hard through his nose and looking around like he needed something to distract him from finishing his sentence. Ash stared him down.

"Before what, Gary?"

"Before we lose somebody," he finished, and there was a tension in the silence between them. For a moment there was nothing to drown out the sound of rattata scratching through the walls, a pressing reminder that they could not guarantee their safety here.

"Bonnie could be right," Ash changed course. "Maybe Johto is sending people for us."

"They're not, Ash," Gary's voice was sure, as of the odds were stacked insurmountably against them. "They're really not."

"You don't know that," he countered.

"I could give you five good reasons why no one is coming," Gary snorted like he had never heard anything more foolish. "Maybe ten."

Ash didn't answer. He didn't take his eyes off of Gary, as if he couldn't, as if the mounting frustration he felt had somehow glued him there. In the back of his mind, he knew that the feeling had nothing to do with Gary at all.

"Look," the other man began again, voice more compassionate this time. "I want someone in Johto to be advocating for us. Someone in Kalos, someone _anywhere._ But realistically, those people are the minority, and they probably don't work in the government. They don't have the responsibility that the government has."

"Somebody has to be coming," he insisted, and Gary began to shake his head.

"We're a liability."

"We're_ people," _Ash answered with conviction.

"Ash," he sounded deflated. "They drop relief _because_ they aren't coming."

Ash held his stare and Gary hardly returned it. He turned his eyes back towards the window and rested his forehead against it, and Ash had to look away from him.

"We got lucky today," Gary said under his breath, and Ash could just barely hear him. "But what happens when one of us gets bitten?"

"No one is getting bitten," Ash replied with a fierceness he hadn't fully intended, voice carrying through the lobby until everyone lifted their heads to look at him. Bonnie's wide eyes stared back at him from the couch, the undercurrent of fear plain on her face. He felt a pang of guilt and Gary shot him a look that told him to keep his voice down. Ash glared back.

"No one is getting bitten," Ash repeated more quietly.

Gary was wrong to doubt them. He was smart and skilled and rarely wrong, but he was wrong about this. Ash knew it in his heart that they were going to make it, all of them, even if he didn't know exactly what they were going to make it to.

He walked away until he stood before an adjacent window, examining the wooden planks for holes that he could keep watch from. Frustration was brewing beneath his skin and he didn't need Gary to make it worse. As he shifted his weight there was a creaking beneath his feet, a short ache like strained metal. He glanced down, brows meeting between his eyes, and noticed the carpet sagging beneath him, edges cut out like he could reach down and pull the floorboard itself up. But there was no handle that Ash could see.

"Hey, Gary?" Ash piped up again, loud enough to be heard by all, the frustration in his voice gone entirely. It had evaporated from beneath his skin with a suddenness, replaced by budding curiosity.

"Yeah?"

Before Ash could open his mouth to speak again, the floorboard beneath him gave a long and loud wail and he fell through the floor.


End file.
